


Hush

by an_apple_for_him



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_apple_for_him/pseuds/an_apple_for_him
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick little one shot, involving the spider and baby Watson, inspired by a poem written by the lovely shagtective (on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

_Hush little baby, don’t you cry,  
Daddy John is always ready to save your life._

He purred, voice soothing as he swept over to the sturdy wooden cot adorned with blankets. From within, unhappy gurgles could be heard. He smiled devilishly, pulling the baby into his arms and rocking quietly from side to side. He had had a ball dealing with the baby sitter, what was it about teenaged girls being so stupidly gullible and ditsy around older men? He listened as the little noises grew steadily quieter, pleasantly surprised by the overwhelming aroma of a very young baby. 

_Hush little baby, just stay here,  
Mummy Mary’s gonna hold you sweet and dear._

He shifted the positioning of the small child, looking it in it’s tiny face, staring into the big blue eyes. He slowed his rocking slightly, transfixing the child in his dark gaze. It was death meeting new life, neither quite knew what to think of it. Death had seen new life before, and each time, it shredded him down to nothing but bones. They were simply blown away by their polar opposite. They simply looked at one another. It began to gurgle again, this time getting rather worked up. He hushed it quietly, stepping like he was dancing towards a chair and settling back down. 

He lay the child down on his lap, holding the head up carefully as it hung off the edge of his knees. He didn’t want any harm to come upon this helpless, wriggling bag of soft skin and fragile bones. It was quite unhappy. He checked the child over for any physical things that could be causing distress, Noticing the plumpness of it’s diaper and deciding that was what ailed the child. He pulled it in close very slowly once again, standing up and humming to himself as he searched for a place to remedy what it was making the child unhappy.

_Quiet little baby, just stay still,_

He laid the child down cautiously on the changing table, looking for a fresh nappy and other such things he would need. 

_Uncle Sherlock loves you and always will._

The baby flailed slightly in discomfort, and so he was quick to fix that little issue. Lift the legs by the ankles, remove, wipe, replace, powder, lower legs, fasten, happy baby. He was amused by how familiar he had become with that routine. He then lifted the baby once again, holding it close to his shoulder but showing care that he didn’t smother it. Dirty nappy disposed of, he began to waltz around the living room, humming Mozart to himself and the child and hearing happy gurgles escaping the wriggling sack. He smiled in utter joy at how dear this child was, making his way back to the seat.

He took in a deep breath, allowing his nose to nestle into the small child and sighing happily. 

_Hush little baby, don’t make a sound,_

He didn’t turn to look as he heard bags drop and heavy breathing, rather, focusing his attention on the feeling and child in his arms.

_Uncle Moriarty’s got you now._

He hardly even whispered it, finally allowing himself to break away from his object of attention and turn to smile. Sebastian Moran was stood before him, a look of utter confusion on his face. 

“What the hell do you have a baby for?”

_I was bored._


End file.
